


The 'B' Word

by TJB084117



Category: Sherlock (TV), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Gen, Humor, Sherlock is a Brat, Spoilers for Battle of Five Armies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-04
Updated: 2017-07-04
Packaged: 2018-11-23 05:26:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11396250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TJB084117/pseuds/TJB084117
Summary: John had a list of numbers he usually counted in his mind. Numbers of how many times the  detective has pissed him off. When the numbers has reached a certain fifty, he gave himself a break. Left everything and just went for a walk.Just like this morning.He was going to have breakfast.Yet…No bread.No jam.Bloody Hell.What will John do when he suddenly ran into Trey Oaken in the park?





	The 'B' Word

**Author's Note:**

> Just something I had in mind.

As usual, John couldn't sleep all night because his brilliant (barmy) flat mate was playing his violin (that Devil’s instrument) until 4 in the morning.

Sherlock’s playing was always beautiful, but sometimes… There were times where the doctor just wanted to take that stupid violin on a stroll through Thames river.  
Just drop the expensive thing into the river, watched as it being carried away by the flow…

Well, he could always dream…

One needed to be a saint to live with a genius. A genius sociopath who lacked social skills so bad, John felt more like his baby sitter most of the times.

He loved Sherlock, he did.

As a bloody best friend.

Not gay, thank you very much.

John had a list of numbers he usually counted in his mind. Numbers of how many times the  detective has pissed him off. When the numbers has reached a certain fifty, he gave himself a break. Left everything and just went for a walk.

Just like this morning.

He was going to have a breakfast.

Yet…

No bread.

No jam.

_Bloody Hell._

 

***

 

He was walking through the park that morning.

It wasn't a morning walk, exactly.

For the first time ever, Trey Oaken ran away from his weekly meeting with his psychiatrist. Doctor Ballinger has been helping the CEO as best as he could, but the dreams just keep on haunting him. Or was it memory.

In his dream, he was a dwarrow. Not just any dwarrow. He was a dwarf King. Quite poor for a king he might say.

He died reclaiming his kingdom with the other twelve dwarves. And a tiny looking elf. Hobbit.

Bilbo Baggins, the _burglar_.

He did grave things to Bilbo in his dream. The hobbit was just trying to help stoping a war, but Crazy gold mad Trey tried to strangle him and dropped him from a high place. In the end, before he died, he remembered asking for the hobbit’s forgiveness.

Logically, he knew he didn't do any of those things. It was his past self. Still, he felt guilty even though the hobbit has forgiven him.

If only he could meet him in this life, Trey would try to make it all up to Bilbo.

 

***

  
John was breathing the fresh air as he walked along the pathway in the park. There were several people feeding the duck on the small lake, others were riding their bicycles and just enjoying their morning jogs.

He saw an empty park bench, decided to rest after a long stress less walk. But, before he could take a seat, he saw a broad-shouldered man, taller than him, short black-haired with trimmed beard looking at him.

If he was Moriarty’s or Mycroft’s man, he was a shite spy. He wasn’t exactly being subtle.

The good doctor could feel all his irritation and temper welling up inside of him. It was his free moment. The only time he let go every bothersome things from his thoughts.

He was going to take it all on that guy. For sure. Yes he will.

The moment he entered the man's personal space, he was struck by a sudden familiarity.

Nostalgic even.

 

***

  
The first word came out of Trey’s lips were, “Burglar.”

The next thing he knew, he was surrounded by blackness.

And the last thing he saw was the furious Hobbit turned man, striking him with a right hook.

He _deserved_ that.

 

***

  
The moment that incorrigible man dropped out the ‘B’ word, John gave him a mean right hook.

He felt much better already.

Didn't even feel a bit sorry about knocking the socks off of that stupid dwarrow, for almost killing him for that no good piece of _Rock_ he called family heirloom.

Not sorry at all.

 

***

**Author's Note:**

> Enjoy it? Kudos it


End file.
